Neal's return
by Quinis
Summary: A future post anklet fic with the Burke's seven getting back together written in response to a prompt. A one-shot.


This is my attempted response to a prompt posted by **love_82** on The Collar Corner.

The prompt was "I would love to see a future post anklet fic with the Burke's seven getting back together. Neal is off doing whatever he is doing, whether in NY or not, and everyone else is doing what they are doing now. That is specific right? :) Someone gets hurt, in trouble, whatever and everyone gets back back together to help them. Pulling one more sting together."

...I tried. Neal refused to cooperate (he stole the show) and I ended up with the story below.

Also, Line Breaks aren't working too well, I tried to get them to work properly but failed.

* * *

Neal's Return

* * *

Neal groaned as the alarm went off. Behind closed lids, it looked too dark for it to be morning. His hand flopped out of bed and banged on the bedside clock, seeking out the 'alarm' button.

He pressed it with great relief but, the beeping sound kept going.

Neal tossed the covers back and glanced around, looking for the source of the sound.

His phone. It sat next to the beside clock, screen lit, buzzing and letting out the most annoying sound ever.

Neal picked it up. 'Mozzie' was printed on the screen; leaving Neal wondering when Moz got a static number, when he programmed it into his phone and when he picked a personalised ring.

"Moz?" he answered, sounding less grumpy than he liked. But, it was hard for him to be mad at his friend. While Neal had gone straight; mostly, after the anklet came off; Mozzie stuck with what he did best and criminals kept odd hours.

One thing Neal liked about a 9-to-5 workday was that he could sleep at night.

"Mobilise the troops!" Mozzie proclaimed, "we've got trouble!"

"Moz, wha?" Neal questioned, his brain not yet firing on all cylinders. "Did you challenge Diana to a drinking contest again?"

There was a scoff on the other end.

"Hardly. The Lady Suit knows how to hold her liquor, if not how to fully indulge herself in vino veritas. But, that's not why I called."

"Why did you call, Moz?" Neal asked with a yawn.

"I'm calling to tell you to get yourself back to New York, the Suit is in trouble."

"Peter?" Neal questioned as a slight bubble of panic formed in his gut. He tried to reassure himself that Peter could handle anything.

"I hope you're sitting down. He was mugged and left for dead."

Neal swallowed and gripped the phone tightly. No, no, no, not Peter, never Peter, why?

"Suit Jones believes that this is because a suspect in one of the Suit's cases is trying to either kill him or scare him off."

"Is he okay?"

"Just get here." And with that said, Mozzie hung up.

Distraught, Neal wasn't able to spend time reflecting or calming down. He gathered up his stuff and packed it into his suitcase, all while securing a seat on a flight to New York. When he had finished his sentence and the anklet came off, Neal had taken six months off to travel. Mostly, he was going around to his caches and seeing what could be returned, what to sell and what he wanted to keep; just in case. The stuff to be sold would be moved to one of caches Mozzie knew about.

It had been four months, three weeks and five days since he had stepped foot in New York.

* * *

The plan was split into steps and every person had their role to play. Mozzie would approach Barends with an offer of protection, Jones standing next to him as visible protection and muscle. Barends would decline, of course. And he told Mozzie to get off his property.

Mozzie told him to remember him when the Feds come around.

Diana would step in next, wearing her badge visibly around her neck and sunglasses on her face. She stood tall and looked down on the small man who had shot her boss and just let loose with inquiries undertones with threats.

"You arranged to speak with Agent Burke so, where were you when he was shot?"

"Do you have an alibi for that?"

"He's a damn good man and an even better boss. I'm not the only one in the office searching for the shooter but, I'm the one who's going to find him. And I'm going to dig until I do."

"You might want to get a lawyer."

She turned on her heel and stomped out, leaving Barends a quivering mess who had been unable to get control of the conversation.

Barends tried to get a hold of his backup. Many of them had been taken away for holding and questioning, not that he knew that. The rest were currently out to lunch with Sara Ellis, a repo woman who toed the line and was looking for a crew. She provided enough distraction that Barends got desperate enough to call Mozzie for a quick fix.

* * *

He was dialling the number when a voice spoke from behind him.

"You don't want to do that."

"Why not?" he asked, spinning around to face the intruder. He really needed to get a better hideout.

"You made some people very angry when you shot that Fed, Mr. Barends. The man you're about to call, has been hired to lead you into an FBI trap."

Barends growled, tore up the card and stomped it to the ground in rage. He needed out of this country and its federal agents!

"They think they can trick me?" he yelled, his face going a shade between red and purple.

The intruder chuckled.

"They did," he responded. Barends pulled a gun on him, embarrassed and furious at being tricked. "Peace," the man said, holding his hands up. His smile never faulted and his ice blue eyes never left the gun. "I don't care that you shot the fed, but I'm interested in why you shot the fed. You were going to confess, weren't you?"

"I was never going to confess," Barends spat, "it was just a trap. I needed to get Burkes away from his backup."

"Burke," the man corrected, "Special Agent Peter Burke. Runs the White Collar division of the FBI." When Barends raised an eyebrow and frowned, the man added, "know the enemy."

Barends lowered the gun slightly.

"You seem to know him well, so tell me, how do I get him to drop the case?"

The man smiled wider, his perfect white teeth standing out in the dank, dusty warehouse.

"He's not your problem, his agents are," the man explained, "I'll help you get rid of them but, we need to clear out of here first."

Barends nodded. The Feds already knew about this place therefore it was dangerous to stay. The stranger knew his stuff.

* * *

Mozzie paced with the burner phone he bought for this con in front of him.

"Does it normally take this long?" Jones asked, reading the agitation in the air like a book.

"He should have called by now," Mozzie said with a frown.

"You think he caught on?" Diana questioned.

"He shouldn't have," Peter said, grunting as he pulled at healing flesh. "But-"

"We don't know how big Barends' operation is or what he was going to confess to," Jones said, finishing Peter's sentence.

"Or even if he was going to confess," Mozzie pointed out, before quickly being silenced by Diana.

Sara arrived at the Burke's home half-an-hour later to find them crowded around the dining table, puzzling over their next move.

"I kept them busy for as long as I could," she explained, feeling a twinge as they all glanced up at her.

"Operation fail," Mozzie lamented, throwing his hands in the air. "If only-" he stopped, an expression of horror flashing across his face as he realised what he was about to say and the effect it could have on the people he was with.

Unfortunately, they seemed to know what he was going to say. Maybe they were thinking the same thing too. Either way, the room went silent. Heads bowed. Even though the person they were thinking of wasn't dead, he still wasn't by their sides.

"We need a new plan," Sara said, firing up. She had been visiting the New York branch of Sterling Bosh when Peter was shot. Since he knew she was in town, Mozzie had called her for help.

There was no way they were going to give up.

* * *

The plan was simple. Barends would try and confess again, this time turning up to the meeting. His new fixer was to hide in the shadows and shoot at him before he could talk to Burke. Then he would escape. His fixer had set him up with a new identity and a flight out of the country.

And while he's sitting on the beach surrounded by women, Burke would be looking into the shooter and trying to find the man behind the curtain. Chasing a ghost and a man who never existed.

Barends ran the whole operation, pretending that he worked under someone else. That way, his hired crew wouldn't cross him as he was the only one who met with 'the boss' and collected the orders and pay. It also served as a good distraction when the Feds poked their noses into his business.

He walked towards the meeting place and frowned when he noticed the Agent who had shaken him down standing beside him. He turned around and began to walk away when a woman with dark hair walked up to him.

"'This changes nothing'," she said to him, handing him a copy of the card the fixer had given him. "He said to tell you that."

Barends looked the woman up and down. Long legs, long lashes, round peaches; he was impressed with the fixer's choice of assistant.

"He better know what he's doing," Barends warned her, turning back around and walking up to the Feds. For a moment, he entertained the idea of having an all-girl crew. Maybe the fixer could give him the assistant's number.

"Agent Burke," he greeted, ignoring the woman beside him.

"Barends," Burke almost spat the name and Barends preened with pride. They knew he had something to do with the shooting and couldn't prove it. "You wanted to talk, so talk."

The next moment, a gunshot rang out. A bullet wedged itself in the table between them.

Playing his part, Barends turned angrily to the agent.

"I thought you'd make sure it was safe! That he wouldn't find me!" he yelled at them, looking around. The fixer was good, he couldn't even see him. "Now he's going to kill me!"

And he ran. Two more shots were fired, keeping the agents from following him.

Smiling, Barends vanished into the crowd and dashed around the corner.

"FBI! Freeze!"

* * *

Elizabeth smiled at the sight of Barends standing with numerous FBI guns pointed at him.

"There are hours of recording where he talks about how he is the mastermind behind the curtain and how he never planned on confessing."

"I guess 'Mr. Cooper', got him to talk?" Elizabeth asked turning to smile at the dark-haired man standing beside her.

"Told him I needed to know everything. Planted a few bugs. Although, I was surprised when he just told me everything, I think Diana scared him more than he wanted to admit." 'Mr. Cooper' handed over his gun to one of the agents who came up to them. The agent looked at him with amazement in his eyes but, 'Mr. Cooper' didn't really care. "Anyway, there's enough evidence to ensure that he's put away for a very long time. And I'm sure you can convince Mozzie and June to block him from getting a good lawyer."

Elizabeth nodded and tried not to cry. It had scared her, the way this man had gone after her husband. And then, hearing the plans the others made to go after him hadn't helped.

And then, miracle beyond miracles, Neal appeared in the doorway. He was ready to help; thank goodness, because there was a flaw in the other plan.

Neal had spun a new plan, working off Peter's one. One which made Barends desperate enough for one last mess with the Feds. He became Barends' fixer, collecting evidence for the FBI and leading him into an arrest. Jones acted as his handler and connection to the FBI during this mission, as well as serving him information on Peter's plans.

* * *

Peter heard Diana gasp in surprise as they rounded the corner to see Barends being taken away by agents. FBI agents.

"Jones? What's going on?" Diana asked, sheathing her gun.

Jones had just finished passing out orders to the surrounding agents, when he heard Diana call his name. He looked up to see her and the boss and smiled. Okay, they probably wouldn't like what he was about to reveal to them but, he was willing to place the blame on Caffrey; and the praise too.

"I am slightly ashamed to admit that I placed an inside man with Barends, who gave us all we need to put him away for a long time." Jones nodded towards a point down the street, where Elizabeth Burke could be seen standing next to a tall man in a vintage suit and hat.

"Neal?" Peter questioned, moving towards the two. "Neal!"

Neal looked up at him and waved.

"Hey, Peter, how are you feeling?" he asked, sounding as pleasant as always. He spoke as if he hadn't been gone for months.

"Good," Peter responded, even though he was still healing and sore.

They hugged tightly with Neal only acknowledging how lonely he had been in how tight he clutched onto Peter and how long the hug lasted. Peter ignored the pain that flared up in his side and focused on how Neal was back.

A month earlier than planned but, Neal was back!


End file.
